


Spent On Rainy Days

by adoorhasopened



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fluff, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoorhasopened/pseuds/adoorhasopened
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach has a horrible, no good, very bad day and Chris makes it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spent On Rainy Days

**Author's Note:**

> Poem quoted is 'XXVI' by Pablo Neruda

 

 

  
Zach yawns as he leaves the warm comfort of his bed and shuffles his way, eyes closed, into the hallway. He’s rubbing his eyes free from ‘sleepy sand’, as his mother used to call it, when he feels Noah excitedly brush against his leg. Zach reaches down to pat his head in a morning greeting as he makes his way into the bathroom, boxers clutched in one hand.

Noah lies at the bathroom door for the next 20 minutes, as steam seeps out under the crack, waiting for Zach to finish his shower. When Zach does finally come out he’s much more alert and awake. He steps into the hallway in his clean boxers, enjoying the cooler air on his damp, heated skin.

“Hiya buddy. You hungry? What say I make the three of us some breakfast?”

Noah knows these words well and leaps up from the floor to race Zach to the kitchen. His arms and legs flail in every direction as he skitters down the hall. Zach wonders to himself if Noah is even in control of his limbs sometimes as he laughs quietly at his unending enthusiasm for food.

***

Both animals are now eating and the coffee pot is on as Zach makes his way to the front door for the morning paper. He’s surprised to find that it’s much colder today than usual in LA and dark gray clouds are looming overhead.

He reaches down for the paper as a black streak rushes out the door and past him, nearly knocking him over. He realizes a few seconds later that the streak is Noah, bounding out of the house at a rabbit across the road.

Zach leaps off the porch to try to grab at Noah’s collar but it’s no use. He’s already in the street headed for the other yard. Zach runs after him, his bare feet pounding through the wet grass, and calls out to the dog to come back.

“Noah, stay!”

Noah momentarily considers ignoring Zach to head into the bush after the bunny, but eventually stops where he is. As Zach approaches he ducks his head in an offering of apology. Zach finally reaches him and grabs a hold of his bandanna. He speaks to Noah in an even, but stern tone.

“That was a bad boy. You could have been hit by a car.”

Noah has the decency to look up at him with big, forlorn eyes, which soften Zach immediately.

“It’s okay buddy. Daddy was just worried.”

He bends down then, with one knee in the grass, and hugs Noah to his chest.

“Daddy understands the excitement of chasing new tail.”

He laughs at his own stupid joke as he runs his fingers through the soft, wiry coat of Noah’s back.

“Don’t tell your other Daddy I said that.”

Across the street, a cross breeze moves between the back and front door of their house. Just enough for it to softly ‘click’ closed.

Zach gets up from the ground, just as the first raindrop hits his bare shoulder.

“C’mon buddy. Before we get rained on.”

He moves quickly across the street now, clutching onto Noah’s scarf. He makes his way up the steps and turns the door handle. Nothing. He wiggles it back and forth a couple times with the same result.

“Oh, Jesus. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He keeps his hold on Noah and backs up off the porch and looks up at the house. He’s glaring at the front door as if looking at it will make it suddenly open. It doesn’t.

He moves to the window on the sides of the front door, knowing they’re locked and tries to open them anyway. Yeah, no. They’re still locked. He grunts his disapproval to no one in particular.

The rain is starting to fall now. In fat, cold drops. Zach’s feet are already numb from walking barefoot on the chilly ground. He tucks his toes in tighter against his feet trying to retain some body heat.

He stands on the porch for a minute, thinking about how to get back in. Noah sits at his feet, waiting patiently. The screen door in the back is open. If he could get over the gate he could get in. He pulls Noah around to the back of the house to try to figure this out.

The big red gate is still definitely locked when he gets there. He looks around for something to stand on. Maybe he could get up on a trashcan and hop over. But then what would he do with Noah? He could take off again if he lets him go. Could he toss Noah over first? No. He wouldn’t be able to climb up there and hold Noah. Not to mention if he did toss him over, Noah might get hurt. All of this isn’t even a consideration because the trashcans are inside the locked gate, waiting for garbage day to be put on the street.

Zach’s skin is turning pink now from the cold. The rain is heavy too. Both he and Noah have their bangs matted down their foreheads. Zach would laugh if it weren’t so irritating to be stuck out there. He steps on his tiptoes and leans against the gate looking longingly at the open sliding door. So close and yet so far away.

Suddenly he gets and idea. Yes, the kitchen window on the side of the house. It’s always cracked a little bit. He holds on to Noah and pulls him once again. This time with a little excited urgency. It’s going to be tough, but he can get them through that window. As he comes around the side he sees that it is, in fact, open a little bit. Enough to get his fingers in, at least. He breaks out into a relieved smile as he reaches it and lets go of Noah’s bandana for just a moment.

“Sit. Stay… Good boy”

He reaches up and heaves the window open. It moves about three inches before it locks into place. Zach’s face falls immediately. He shoves harder, but it’s no use. It’s stuck. The tiny little latches on the inside of the window are open. Made for just such an occasion as this. Preventing an intruder from entering the home.

“God dammit!”

Zach’s yelling now, he’s full on pissed. Noah crouches away from his anger just a little bit and Zach’s face falls.

“I’m sorry buddy. It’s not your fault.”

He pets his head and Noah leans into it. His fur is wet and clumped everywhere now and he stinks. That awful sour wet dog smell. He’s definitely going to need a bath after this. Zach’s boxers are soaked through and clinging to him. He looks around briefly, suddenly embarrassed and aware of the situation. He thinks _“Please, no paps today._

When he’s satisfied he hasn’t been caught half naked and looking like a drowned rat he peers inside the window one more time regretfully. It looks warm and dry and he can see Harold contentedly licking his paws clean. Traitor.  
With a sigh he tugs at Noah again and steers them back to the front porch. At least they can sit on the steps and wait for Chris to come home from his meeting.  
Whenever that is…

***

An hour later Zach is shivering profusely and holding Noah against his chest on the porch. The rain has slowed down a bit but it’s still going. And it’s still freezing. He’s half way to pneumonia and seriously thinking about breaking the front window.  
He got all the way up to the front door of the neighbor’s house once, to ask to use the phone, when he realized his boxers are completely translucent. Plus, they hate Noah. They claimed he pooped in their yard once, when Zach knows it was really that obnoxious Shepherd down the street that’s always barking.

He kills his time by coming up with ways to blame Chris for this. Something he fully intends to do whenever he fucking finally decides to grace Zach with his presence.

But just then, he sees his car pull around the corner and he’s so happy he could cry. He leaps off the porch and runs to the black car as it pulls up in front. Noah is just a step behind them.

Chris is shocked when a soaking wet Zach powers into him. Zach doesn’t say anything, just moves his hands inside Chris' black cable sweater and wraps his arms around Chris' waist.

“What’s going on? You’re soaked.”

Zach just whimpers into Chris’ neck as Chris strokes the skin on the back of Zach’s neck. It’s beat red and puckered hard with goose flesh.

He mumbles, “I got locked out.” And keeps his head buried into Chris’ shoulder.

Chris takes his sweater off and throws it around Zach’s shoulders. He gently guides him back up the walk way to the front door while rubbing his palms up and down Zach’s arms to create a little heat. Noah dances happily between their feet as if nothing ever happened.

“Okay baby. Come inside and I’ll take care of you.”

***

Once inside Chris walks Zach over to the couch and wraps him up in Chris’ old tattered quilt. Zach is astounded. Chris never lets him touch it. It was his when he was little, handmade by his grandmother. Zach doesn’t say anything though, just nuzzles into the fabric that smells so much of Chris.

“Stay there. I’m going to bring you some coffee and run you a hot bath. I’ll towel Noah off too.”

Zach burrows deeper into the blanket as he hears Chris turn the taps on and the water rush into the tub. He comes back briefly, with the coffee he promised, and Zach wraps his fingers around it to pull its heat into his body. His fingers are so cold that that cup almost stings in his hands. He looks up at Chris in silent gratitude and Chris smiles at down at him.

“Okay. The tub is filling now. I’m going to go take care of Noah. Have both of the kids had breakfast?”

Zach’s heart swells at the mention of the pets being ‘the kids’. It warms him in a way the blanket and coffee have failed to.

“Yeah.”

Chris leans down to brush the damp hair out of Zach’s eyes and kisses him on the forehead.

“Okay. I’ll come get you when the tub is full.”

Zach sits there sipping his coffee for a few minutes. He’s actually completely exhausted from the whole ordeal so he sits his cup on the table and snuggles down deeper into the couch cushions. His eyes are just about to close when Chris comes back to get him.

“Alright. Your bath awaits.”

Zach begrudgingly gets up and follows Chris down the hall. His skin has returned to normal color. Perhaps it’s a little pink, but nothing like the angry red it was before.

“When I get out of the bath, can I still use your quilt again?’

Chris turns around to smirk at him with crinkled eyes.

“Yes, but only today! I’m making an exception since you had such a shitty morning.”

Zach smiles down at the floor pleased that he gets to crawl into Chris’ concentrated smell once more.

***

He drops a toe into the tub and quickly pulls it back out.

“It’s too hot!”

Chris just smiles at him.

“No it isn’t. Your toes are just numb. You’ll get used to it in a minute.”

Zach looks at him petulantly before finally conceding and stepping a foot in. He groans and grumbles the whole way as he gets both feet in and begins to sit down.

“My ass is on fire.”

Chris laughs and sits down on the edge of the tub.

“Lean back and I’ll wash your hair.”

“You better not use your shampoo. That stuff is so cheap.”

“Crew isn’t cheap! Just because it isn’t Alterna, jeeze. You say it like I use Suave or something. I like the smell, okay?! Now lean back, stop complaining and let me take care of you!”

Zach leans back with a smirk on his face, internally giddy that Chris is trying so hard to take care of him. He sighs as the hot water cascades down his head and neck, and then groans in pleasure as he feels Chris’s fingers lightly dig into his hair to lather the shampoo. It feels beyond amazing. He’d even consider getting himself locked out a lot more often if he’d get this kind of treatment on a regular basis. Maybe not. But it’s nice. Really nice. He’s even starting to get hard.

“Really? That gets you excited?”

“Shhh. Don’t spoil it. I love you quiet and doting upon me.”

Chris grunts in mock irritation.

“I’m kidding. I have a thing about having my hair played with. I go all submissive and obedient.”

Chris sounds indignant now.

“Then why don’t you let me touch your hair when I try to?!”

“Because I don’t like being submissive and obedient… most of the time. Not to mention that you always try after I’ve styled it into the perfect balance between coiffed and disheveled and that is just not okay.”

Chris sighs exasperatedly but doesn’t say anything else for a while as he massages Zach’s scalp. He’s not going to further ruin his chances of turning Zach to putty in his hands.

“Okay. I’m gonna rinse now.”

He cups his hand over Zach’s forehead, shielding the downpour of soapy water from getting in his eyes and Zach’s heart leaps as he momentarily considers how amazing a dad Chris would be if they did ever decide to have kids, of the non four-legged variety.

“Okay. Now just relax for a while. I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”

Zach drops lower into the tub and feels the heat slowly seep into his cold bones. The painful tingles are now gone from his extremities and all he feels is warmth. Chris comes back in a moment later with his glasses on. The big ones that make him look both nerdy and insanely sexy in that ‘naughty teacher/student’ way. He has a book in one hand and he’s dragging a chair from the kitchen behind him.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to read poetry to you.”

Zach rolls his eyes, despite the soft feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach at Chris’ attempt to be sweet.

“Don’t roll your eyes. Just let me ‘dote upon you’ for a little while. I’m buttering you up so the next time I am sick you’ll be a little nicer to me.”

Zach feels a stab of guilt for not being a very good nurse to Chris the last time he had the flu and promises himself that next time he will be the perfect boyfriend and not complain once.

“Okay. Who are you reading?”

“Neruda.”

“Neruda? Chris, we’re not women.”

“Zach, I _know_ that.”

He glances down pointedly at Zach’s cock bobbing in the water before continuing.

“But I like Neruda, and if you’d stop trying to be a _man_ for a minute I think you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Zach waves his hand at Chris to start and lays back into the tub. Chris looks up briefly to make sure Zach won’t argue further and sees that his eyes are closed. His black lashes are clumped and lay heavy against the pale skin of his cheek, still flushed from the cold. Chris clears his throat as he cracks the spine of the book open and begins to read.

“I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz  
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:  
I love you as certain dark things are loved,  
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries  
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,  
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body  
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.  
I love you simply, without problems or pride:  
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving  
but this, in which there is no I or you.

So intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,  
So intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.”

When Chris finishes the poem he glances up and sees that Zach is rapt with attention. He’s looking at Chris with dark eyes that are swimming with emotion.

“I love you Chris.”

Chris smiles at him and then his face becomes adorably confused.

“Zach… why didn’t you just use the key on the sill to get back in the house?”

Zach just groans and sinks under the water, bubbles coming up as he huffs out a frustrated sigh.  



End file.
